


work together

by wtfmulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-Detour, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12400929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfmulder/pseuds/wtfmulder
Summary: Mulder talking shit in the car on the way to ANOTHER team building seminar.





	work together

“It’s so good that you two will finally have the chance to see what these seminars are all about,” says Agent Stonecypher from the driver’s seat, sharing a quick grin with her partner. 

“Agent Scully, should we chain your partner to his seatbelt this time?” Agent Kinsley asks. Stonecypher bursts into laughter.

Mulder looks at Scully and leans over the middle seat, pleading. “If I jump out of the car, will you come with me?” 

Scully smiles uncomfortably.

The car ride drifts on like this for the next half-hour or so. Stonecypher and Kinsley being perfectly pleasant, Mulder barely disguising his contempt with underhanded barbs and quips. Mulder  _not_  disguising his contempt in his side-comments to Scully. 

“Give me your gun. You made me put mine in my suitcase.” “I like your hair-dye better.” “What kind of illness do I have to contract to never have to go to one of these again, and how do I get you to administer it to me?” 

“Stop being rude,” Scully warns finally, shoving him back into his own seat. He scowls at her, betrayed.

“Oh, god. Carla, you  _have_  to tell them about what happened at last year’s karaoke session.”

“Michael! You promised you would never bring that up again!”

Michael brings it up again. Scully tries to listen, nodding her head in all of the right places, secretly wishing she hadn’t made Mulder put his gun in his suitcase. She also wishes she were a better actor; her fake laugh is abysmal, but no one seems to notice. Beside her, Mulder broods. 

“–And then when the  _Director_  gets on stage, you can just tell he’s had one glass too many. He grabs the mic–”

“Last time we did this, you tried to fuck me in my motel room,” Mulder says suddenly, close to her ear. She freezes in her half-nod response to the karaoke story, and then turns to him, aghast. “What?” He laughs quietly, throatily, almost under his breath. “It was obvious. I was  _very_  tempted.” 

He sounds playful, plucky even. But he’s wearing that face that Scully has come to recognize as  _You will not stop me,_ his eyes narrowed, a humorless smile infecting the corners of his mouth. His face is a black pit. She shivers, feels the warmth creep in like heating oil, and he continues.

“I’m a better partner now, Agent Scully. I won’t leave you hanging this time. We can skip the wine and cheese, though. As soon as we’re out of this car and checked in, I’m going to have that–”

“–Can you  _believe_ it? He had stripped his  _shirt_  off and was waving it in the air–”

“Tight little ass bent over the bed–”

“–It took three armed and dangerous–”

“Rip your panties off and bury my  _face_  in you, since you so rudely interrupted me this morning–”

“We were running late,” Scully defends, flustered, too caught up to stop herself. Agent Kinsley runs right on by her like he hadn’t heard a thing, Stonecypher occasionally interjecting to fix this fact or that fact. 

Mulder doesn’t stop.

“We’ll also be late for the reception. But that’s not what will clue everyone in on what we were getting up to. No. That will be your face. Because you can’t hide it, Scully. I always…” he reaches out to pat her thigh. She smacks his hand away. “Know when my come has started dripping out of you. You make a face. It looks a lot like the face you make when you come for me.” 

She squeezes her legs together, smiling blankly at the seat in front of her and the blonde hair poking over it. She licks her lips. Squirms.

“Oh, shoot,” Kinsley drops the map in his lap, dismayed. “We missed our turn.”

“How far back?” Stonecypher asks cheerily. “We’ll just loop around.”

“Ten miles.”

Scully fights the urge to slam her head against the window.

“Are you wet yet?” Mulder asks, soft and demanding, his hands clasped in his lap. She’s going to lie to him, tell him that her underwear  _isn’t_ sticking to her flesh, raw and slick and throbbing with need. That she isn’t only seconds from falling apart, cresting with only his words, that harsh, reedy voice and the power he holds over her. He furrows his eyebrows, like he already knows of her impending dishonesty. 

“What are you two mumbling about back there? Share with the class!” 

“Partnership,” Mulder answers easily, his winsome grin all teeth and knives. Scully sucks in a noisy breath, finding that it does nothing to calm her down. She nods her head  _yes_. 


End file.
